One More Person
by minachandler
Summary: Set directly after 3x02. After telling Ray Palmer she will work for him, Felicity goes back to the foundry, where she and Oliver confront some home truths about their changing relationship. Oliver/Felicity.


It was late, past ten o'clock, when Felicity pulled up outside Verdant. The drive to Queen Consolidated had distracted her. So had her meeting with Ray Palmer. He wasn't as bad as she thought. She realised that underneath his cocky exterior, and in spite of his previous actions, she could tell he was a decent person. Felicity had mostly let him talk, about contracts and salaries and how he wanted to rebrand Starling City.

Her hair was loose around her shoulders, and there was a breeze in the night air as she got out of her car. She pushed back several strands that had flown in front to obscure her vision before making her way to the club's entrance. It was quiet, as expected, but when she opened the door to the foundry and went down the stairs, she was surprised that only Oliver was there. He was clad just in his jeans and gloves, punching at the sparring dummy with all his might. His forehead was covered in sweat, and when she moved closer, she realised his cheeks were wet, too.

When he saw her, he didn't say anything at first. He leaned against the dummy's arms, his eyes closed, and it seemed to take him several long moments before he could bring himself to look up at her.

"I… didn't mean to interrupt," she said, but even as she spoke, she could feel her own voice tremble. The lump in her throat that she had been able to so successfully ignore for the last hour was back.

Oliver shook his head. "I was just about to suit up and get going, actually."

Felicity raised her eyebrows and walked over to the computers. "It seems pretty quiet tonight," she said, "and it looks like you could do with the rest. Where's Roy?"

"I told him to go home," he said. "He seemed pretty upset over Thea – he probably wasn't in the best shape to be on the streets."

"Good call," said Felicity, and then she looked pointedly at him. "You're not in the best shape either."

Ordinarily, she would have expected an argument, but instead, Oliver's shoulders slumped in resignation and he went over to his bed, pulling on his grey hoodie.

"I'm glad he told you about Thea," she said when the silence had stretched on for too long. "He needed to."

"Yeah," he replied wearily. "Now I have to find her. And that's… assuming she's not in trouble."

"I'm sure she's okay," she tried to assure him, but she could see the worry in his face. She hesitated, wheeling her chair forward a little so it was closer to his bed. "Are you?"

He met her eyes properly, then, for the first time since she entered the foundry. "No," he said honestly. "Not really."

The earnestness in his eyes made something in her break, and she quickly turned her chair around, wiping the tears from her face. Part of her wondered why she'd even come down here in the first place, because at that moment, she felt worse than she had even when they were burying Sara.

Her back was still to him when he spoke. "I loved her," he said quietly, and if it wasn't for their proximity, she wouldn't have heard him. She wheeled her chair around again, aware of the tear tracks still on her face. "I mean, even when we were together, part of me knew that we were in love with other – that she was in love with someone else," he amended, "but I still loved her."

"I know you did," she said softly. "And I know how difficult this must be for you – more than anyone else."

"What do you mean?"

She didn't want to say it. "You know what," Felicity said, but his brow was furrowed in confusion.

Then he understood. "I saw her die before," he said eventually. He scoffed, shaking his head, and for a moment, it looked like a fresh wave of tears was going to overwhelm him. But like her, he managed – just about – to ignore them and soldier on. "You know, each time I saw her die, there was a part of me that hoped – that prayed she would come back. I just can't stop thinking that it was only two days ago that she was helping me take down Zytle and telling me… telling me that she would be in Starling for a while. And even now, for the first time, I've seen her dead body and helped bury her, but I can't help thinking, even though I know it's stupid –"

She shook her head. "It really isn't stupid. I've had the same thought before. It's kind of funny… she was the one to tell me that once people are dead, that's it."

"It wasn't for Sara," he said. "She came back twice."

Felicity thought for a moment. "Three times if you count when she took the poison."

"You know about that?"

"She told me." He looked surprised, but he didn't say anything.

"You'd think it would get easier," said Oliver after a while, and his voice had hardened and become brittle, "with all the people I've loved and lost. With practice. I figured I was used to it by now."

"No," Felicity said firmly, "that's not how it works."

"I know," he said hoarsely. "It doesn't get easier with time. Far from it. But it does become second nature eventually."

This time, when the tears trickled down his cheeks, he didn't turn away and neither did she. She wanted to get up and march over to his bed to embrace him, to tell him it was okay, but she knew she couldn't. It was too soon. "I meant to say," she said, "about what I said earlier… I'm sorry. I was upset, about Sara, about a lot of things –"

"I'm the one who should be apologising," Oliver interrupted.

"What for?"

But the look in his eyes said it all. "For… everything that's happened."

She shook her head, and the lump in her throat was returning. "Don't. Please don't. You apologised already."

The truth was that she didn't want to talk about it. She had hoped, secretly, before they had descended the foundry's steps to find Sara's dead body, that they might have been able to patch things up, talk about their disastrous first date without either of them walking away. She had even hoped, stupidly, that she might have got him to change his mind. But she knew, now – his commitment was here, in this dark, cold foundry. He had chosen the faceless hero in a green hood over her. And she wasn't okay with it – God, she was far from okay right now – but she knew talking about it would make no difference. Not now Oliver's choice was made.

What he said next, however, was not what she expected. "I told you that I couldn't be me and the Arrow," he said, "but what I didn't say was… how close I was to losing you. When the restaurant got blown up, for a moment, I thought you were –"

"But I was fine," she said.

"This time you were," he said, "but what would I have done, Felicity, if – if something had happened to you?" Felicity found her grip on one of the chair's arms tighten, but she couldn't bring herself to say anything if she tried. "Like something happened to Tommy, my mother, my father, Shado, Sara… and now, maybe even my sister who has been God knows where for the last –"

"Stop," she pleaded, finally finding it in herself to cut through his now-familiar litany. "Don't think like that. I'm sure Thea is fine. And I will help you find her." At last, she got up and took a few steps towards him, placing her hand on his arm. He made to tug his arm away, getting to his feet, but she didn't let him. "And I'm still here. Both of us… are still here."

He closed his eyes. "And if you want it to stay that way, we can't – I can't –"

"I get it," she said. "You still need to save the city."

"Yes," he agreed, "plus one more person."

She felt her hand fall away. So that was what this was about.

Felicity found herself walking away from him, pushing her chair back to the computers. (She seemed to be doing that a lot lately.)

Before she was able to pull up the first random thing on the screen she could think of, though, she heard his footsteps as he came to stand behind her. She looked up at him; he looked like he was about to say something, but she got there first.

"There is something I need to tell you," she said, looking him square in the eye and wordlessly begging him not to say anything else. "You… probably won't like it."

To her relief, he seemed to understand. "Okay."

After taking a deep breath, she said, "I decided to work for Ray Palmer at Queen Consolidated."

To his credit, he didn't even look annoyed. Not really. "I see," Oliver said eventually.

"He kind of bought Tech Village, so as far as he's concerned, he's already my boss. He also pointed out, quite rightly, that if I worked for him at QC, I wouldn't have to wear that awful uniform."

Something approaching a smile graced his lips. "It didn't look that bad. And blue is definitely your colour."

Though she couldn't quite manage a smile in return, she appreciated his weak attempt at humour nevertheless. "You're okay with this, right?"

"Of course," he said. "It's your life. Your choice."

"I know it can't be easy, seeing someone else take over your family's company –"

Oliver shook his head. "I meant what I said. Being CEO – it's something the old me would have done. The one that thought I could be Oliver Queen and the Arrow." He was veering dangerously close to the very topic Felicity had made it clear she wanted to avoid, and she could tell he realised this too. "Palmer's clearly a smart guy, and I'm sure he'll do more with the company than I ever could have. Especially with you by his side."

"Thank you," she said gratefully.

"This is probably a good time for me to tell you something, too," he said. "I was planning on telling you earlier, you know, before…" He couldn't bring himself to continue, but she got what he meant.

"What?"

"Barry called me a couple of days ago. He woke up."

She was wondering when he was going to mention this. "I know," Felicity said.

"You do?" he said, raising his eyebrows.

"I heard you guys talking on that rooftop," she admitted. "Some story."

Oliver looked strangely relieved. "Yeah," he said. "That it is."

"To be honest, I didn't believe it at first, but… after learning human weapons were real, super speed didn't seem much of a stretch."

"Over the past few years, I've seen a lot of things out there that defy proper explanation," he murmured.

"Yeah," she said. "I guess Central City is getting a new guardian angel."

"Are you going to go and see him?"

"Probably not right away," said Felicity, "with the new job and all. But soon, yeah."

He checked his watch. "It's getting pretty late."

"I'm still processing Sara's autopsy," she said, "but as soon as that's done, I can go. I never thought I'd have to say the word 'autopsy' and 'Sara' in the same sentence," Felicity added as an afterthought, "but I guess I'll get used to that."

She regarded him, noticing as he rubbed his thumb and forefinger together in the way he always did when he was worried or nervous or trying to decide something. "Actually," he said finally, "do you mind if you go through some of it with me? See if there are clues I can follow up?"

So that was what he wanted to do – work the case, like it was any other. Well, it couldn't hurt either of them, she thought. Sighing, she said, "Sure."

And once again, as she talked STR markers, fingerprints and body temperature, she managed to push her grief to one side. Temporarily, at least, she could forget – about Sara, about Oliver, about everything.


End file.
